


Mike Hanlon's Year-Long World Tour

by hoziertozier



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alcohol, Everyone Is Alive, F/M, IT Chapter Two Fix-It, M/M, Marijuana, POV Multiple, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Rated T for Trashmouth, So thats fun, Voicemail, adults getting drunk, eddie and bill and richie and ben all have panic attacks at one point or another, if u kill a demon clown alien youre allowed to get shitfaced whenever you want, its a law, look theyve earned it, sad georgie hours
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 8,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22581832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoziertozier/pseuds/hoziertozier
Summary: The Losers have financed Mike's trip around the world, and while he's gone they leave him messages on his phone telling him about what he's missed.This is honestly just a series of voicemail monologues that chronicle everyone's journeys post-Ch2, but also a character study on everyone's relationships with Mike. We love talking about Mike and loving him. Don't worry, he'll get to talk at the end of it!the plan is 35 individual voicemails followed by a lil wrap-up fic.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris
Comments: 32
Kudos: 100





	1. Voicemail 1: Richie, August 2016

**Author's Note:**

> hey! so these are going to vary in length. ill provide context if you guys want at the beginning of the chapter, or just leave a comment if you're confused and ill respond and clarify!

“Uh, hey Mikey, it’s Richie. I know you’re probably on the plane already but like, I guess I wanted to update you that Bev and Ben agreed to drive Eddie back down to New York with them. It’s good, he’s got all his meds and shit, the doctor said he’s healing really well- fuck, you were just here, you know all this shit. But, yeah, it’s just me and Bill left in the townhouse now, we’re planning on catching a flight together to LA, even though I was staying in that apartment in Chicago but hey, it’s what fucking ever, right? Perks of being a wealthy semi-famous comedian, I’m a douchebag and everyone loves me! *Sigh* Kinda wish I’d gotten to drive down with Eds and them, though. It would’ve been really good. I would’ve fucked it completely up. Probably. Most likely. Shit, this is too long for a voicemail, uh...how the fuck do you even end these things? Fuck, BYE!”


	2. Voicemail 2: Patty, August 2016

“Hi, Mike Hanlon? This, this is Patricia Uris. Um, I, I don’t exactly know...okay, so, Stanley is alive. He woke up yesterday in the funeral home and he- everything was healed. He said something about ‘them’ winning something? But he- we’re having to go through some legal things at the moment. Kind of a red flag when someone dies on a coroner's report and then shows up a couple days later asking to legally be alive again. It’s a process. But he wanted me to call you and let you know....he’s really excited. To see you all again. To be alive. I don’t know what you and your friends did to make him alive, I just- thank you. Thank you, Mike.”


	3. Voicemail 3: Bill, August 2016

“Hey Mikey, it’s Bill, I jus-just got back to my place in LA. Dropped Richie off at his-his on the way, we were talking in the car and I had this idea that maybe my next book could be ba-based on our expe-expe-shit our experience with It? Not a complete biography or anything, just el-elements of it. S-s-supernatural shape-shifting clown demon alien thing, misfit group of kids b-banding together because adults d-d-don’t believe hard enough. I think it’s a s-solid concept. I’m gonna call everyone and ask their opinions of-of course, and I know you can’t really use your ph-phone right now, but I wanted to include you on that. You can let me know what you think when you get back, right man? I hope you’re having a b-blast out there. Can’t wait to hear all about it when you get home. See you then, Mike.”


	4. Voicemail 4: Eddie, August 2016

“Hi Mike, I knew you weren’t going to pick up because you’re in fuck knows where doing god knows what, but that’s kind of the whole point, so sorry for using your answering machine as a therapist, I’m just- look man, I’m sitting on the floor in my bathroom while my fucking wife is asleep and it’s like 2 in the goddamn morning and I ‘m fucking miserable. I’m miserable! I can’t fucking fake this shit. I get home and Marty is borderline livid until she sees that I’m wounded and then she goes full nurse mode, I swear she fucking glared at Bev when she was helping me inside the fucking apartment. She’s unbearable. It feels like I’m fucking being buried alive in gauze. And you know what the shitty thing is? Nothing is different. She’s not acting any different than she did before I left. It’s all me. It’s all fucking me. Because I remember shit now, I remember my fucking mom and all those goddamn placebos and I broke free from that as a kid, I did! I remember it! And then I fucking forgot that I broke free and ended up under it all over again. I can’t fucking do this. Staying with her is gonna kill me. It is literally going to kill me. I need to leave. Fuck, I need to leave my wife. I need to get a divorce. Oh my god Mike I need to get a divorce. How the fuck do I get a divorce? I need to call Bev. Thanks for, uh, listening? I guess. Bye.”


	5. Voicemail 5: Ben, August 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this includes mentions of bev's ex and alludes to the abuse she went through with him, fair warning. however, it's also ben raging about it, so that makes up for it.

“Hi Mike, I- look I, I heard from Bev that Eddie called you as a went to vent and it helped him talk through stuff and I, I can’t say this stuff that I’m keeping in right now to someone who could get it back to Bev right now, but I need to get this out, and she just went to get our take out so I have this chance and I need to take it. I just...I went with her to her old apartment to help her pack things up and her husband was there. She was so angry, she thought he’d agreed to be out when we came by. And this guy just, just raises an eyebrow and says, ‘I changed my mind. Is that gonna be a problem, Bevvy?’ She went rigid, she was...I’ve never seen her like that before. So I put my hand on her shoulder and looked at her and she saw me and I swear I watched the color return to her face and the courage in her eyes began to just glow so brightly. And she turned to him and said, ‘No, no problem at all. Just stay out of our way.’ So we got about working, packing, and this guy just watches us, sits with a fucking drink and watches us. Makes some quips but I was trying to ignore him and keep working because I thought maybe if Bev saw I wasn’t paying his bullshit any attention it might help her ignore it too. And it did, we left, and she never has to go back there or be around that jackass ever again but I can’t help it, I can’t help but wonder how a sleaze like that fucking guy ends up rich and successful and married to Beverly Marsh and then decides that that’s not enough power, he needs to feel more, he’s- he’s scared of how powerful and brave Bev is, and he needs to push her down and make her feel scared because if someone as big as Bev Marsh is bowing to your power, that makes you hot shit, right? It’s fucking disgusting, just how pathetic he is, and how disgusting he is, and Mike I’m a nice guy and I’m a pacifist, I hate having to fight at all, but I- I don’t think I’ve ever- I genuinely felt like going over to this smarmy asshole and his fucking whiskey and choking him, just, just p-punching him and breaking his glass for thinking he deserves any power, for thinking this is the way you treat someone, the way you treat Bev of all people, she just- she deserves so much better. She deserves it all, Mike. She is the best, bravest, most amazing person I have ever met, she is so strong and I just....I just want to bask in it. Just being near her, feeling her and watching as she bends the world around her to her will, that’s all I need. I- fuck, that’s her keys, I gotta go.”


	6. Voicemail 6: Stan, August 2016

“Hey, Mike, this is Stanley Uris. Patty told me she called like I asked and, well, things are better now. I’m remembering the good parts. I just wanted to tell you that I don’t want you to blame yourself, okay? It’s not your fault that I did what I did, okay? This is all on me. I remembered things and I got scared, and I weighed my options and made the wrong choice. I was wrong. I don’t know how I deserve a second chance at this, after what I put Pats and you all through, having to deal with....me. It wasn’t right. I’m sorry. I, um. I do remember better things more, now, though. I remember your farm, and uh, you taking me to different parts of the property and bringing a lunch and sitting with me while I birdwatched. You listened to me so, I was so excitedly talking and sketching and writing and flipping through the book I brought, and I remember your, your eyes. They were...really kind. I just....I want you to know. I remember that. Those afternoons. Our afternoons. You know, Patty, she gets that same look in her eyes. All kind and patient and smart, you’re both so smart, I honestly, I really think you would get along fantastically. I really want her to meet you, to meet all of you. I think everyone would get on really well, I do, Mike. Call me some time, okay? Bye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: stanpat rights!!!!! bike rights!!!!!  
> also me: we can have little a stanlon. as a treat.


	7. Voicemail 7: Bill, September 2016

“Mikey, I’m really worried about Richie. I know you’re not going to be hearing this anytime soon but I need to say this. I’m fucking awful at keeping secrets, I’m shit, and I just got back from a coffee with Richie and he told me he’s gay and he’s been in love with Eddie since we were kids, oh my god. I’m fucking- how did none of us notice before?! Or did everyone know and just not tell me, because I know I can get a little focused on things and miss stuff, I get that, I’m 41 years old and I know myself, but....god, Richie looked like shit. I don’t think he’s shaved since we got back, or fucking slept, by the look of his eyes. He fucking reeked of like, too much Old Spice and vodka. He sounds miserable, he dropped his manager and writers, did the comedian equivalent of quitting his job, and he doesn’t know what to do next. I tried to just comfort him but it felt like he wasn’t receiving it, like everything I said just bounced off of him. I think I did something wrong, said the wrong thing. He came to me with this for help and I don’t think I gave that to him. I’m...kind of scared I don’t know how to give that anymore. I was always Big Bill for you all, and I helped and I knew what to say somehow but now I’m just Bill and we’re adults and things are different and more. I just want to help him, Mike. I want to be able to do that again, if only for Richie. He needs me right now, I can’t...I should call him. I’m going to call him. Thanks, Mikey. Talk to ya later, eh?”


	8. Voicemail 8: Bev, September 2016

“Hey Mike, it’s Bev. I’m kind of following in Eddie’s steps and voicing my freak outs in your voicemail to get progress out of them somehow? I’m sorry. God, we’re all so fucked up, I bet your mailbox is going to be full by the time you get back because we’re all going to vent to your mailbox instead of talking to each other like healthy human beings. Which, I’m not saying any of us are, but still. Predictable. Sorry, digressing, I’m....worried about my, er, thing with Ben. I think I really love him. I do, and it’s so stupid to be nervous about that when I’m 41 goddamn years old, but here I am, like I’m 15 and blushing at some boy in school! It’s so stupid, like, he’s right there, and I’m living with him and sleeping next to him in his bed but he hasn’t tried anything, and I haven’t tried anything because I keep stopping myself because what if I make a mistake? What if he’s wrong about me? Or, or I’m wrong about him, and I end up bringing something out in him that’s just like Tom or my d-dad, what if it’s me? I’m almost more scared that it’s not me, I think. I don’t know. I wish you were here. I wish I could have a Homeschool Hug right about now. You give the best hugs out of all the Losers, you know that? Even Ben. You wrap a person up in your arms and make them feel like the whole world. And then you say something soft and kind and smart that makes everyones doubts seem just stupid, like that shit would ever happen. I miss that. I need that right about now. I can’t wait to see you again, Mike. I love you.”


	9. Voicemail 9: Richie, September 2016

“Heya, Mike’s mailbox, this is Richie Trashmouth Tozier coming to you live with a personalized message. Y’see, Big Bill thinks I’m ‘not doing well’ or whatever, so my mandated homework is to leave you a message detailing everything that’s wrong with me so you can listen to it in eleven months and go, ‘jesus christ what is fucking wrong with Richie.’ Which, I mean, I’d say that too. No one wants to hear this shit, jesus, that’s why I got given fucking ghost writers, no one wants to fucking hear me actually say shit, I’m the fucking joke guy. Har-dee-har, no feelings here, dildo dildo dick joke, whoop! I fucked your mom, Eds! Ha ha! Urgh, fuck me, man. This is so stupid. Fuck, I bet Bill left a shitty little voicemail on here telling you I’m gay too, right? Probably did it like, the minute he got in the car, the shit. Well, from the horse’s mouth, I am gay. In theory, mostly. I’m not that great at it in practice, but, whatever. We don’t need to think about past-Richie’s failed escapades with mouthy dark haired twinks that look too much like a certain asshole who just told me he’s getting a divorce. Nope. Not gonna analyze that one, waaaaaaay too easy. Like me. With dark haired mouthy twinks. Jesus balls, man, he’s getting a fucking divorce. I hate this. I fucking hate that I think I know why he felt the need to call me, personally, to deliver this information. I hate that I have fucking hope that my asshole brain is fucking disgusted at, like, what the fuck? Who the fuck put this hope on my fucking plate? I ordered pain and anguish! Take this back to the fucking kitchen and get me fear and loathing, I want my fucking money back! Hope, disgusting. Like I’d fucking do anything about it, right? That takes talking, and that takes honesty, and that shit’s fucking terrifying. You’re good at that honesty shit, Mike, how the fuck do you do that? How do you just be honest all the goddamn time, in front of god and everyone, being honest where children can see, you perverted fuck. I bet you get off on it. I bet honesty is your fucking kink. It gets you so good like, ooh, yes, be emotionally open and vulnerable with me, fuck, it’s sooooo gooooooood.......I think this thing got away from me. Fuck it, I did it, Bill can’t yell at me. I’m out. Peace out, Mikey boy.”


	10. Voicemail 10: Eddie, October 2016

“Mike! It’s Eddie! I did it! Myra agreed to the split, we’re officially separating, fuck! God, this is fucking amazing, I feel- I feel fucking high, does that make any sense? Shit, it’s like, it’s like down under the pharmacy, when I fought the fucking leper, and it-it hit me that I could beat it, and I went at it, and I fucking fought it, and this is like that! Leaving Myra was like beating the leper, all over again. I can breathe, Mike. I can fucking breathe. And it’s thanks to your stupid voicemail. I...I hope wherever you are right now, you’re breathing too, man. You deserve it. We all do. I love you, bro. I’ll see you.”


	11. Voicemail 11: Richie, October 2016

“I...Mike, hi, Richie, I’m....I’m in the bathroom at some bar and I, I can’t even fucking remember the name of it right now, it doesn’t fucking matter, I’m- there are. It’s Halloween. It’s Halloween and I told Bill I didn’t want to go out with him but then I didn’t want to stay home so I went out and for some FUCKING reason every person and their goddamn MOM decided this was the year of the fucking clown for Halloween! Haha! Fucking great! The fuckers are everywhere! I can’t fucking escape them! I leave one bar, I go to the next, I turn a fucking corner and there’s a fucking clown! I can’t fucking escape them! I can’t- I can’t fucking breathe, I can’t do this man, I can’t keep fucking doing this. I need to call Bill. I can’t do this on my own, man. I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to do this alone anymore. I’m so scared, Mike. I saw shit, man, I saw shit that scared me. In the deadlights. I don’t want to see it anymore. I just wanna get some fucking sleep without seeing it. I’m- I’m gonna call Bill. I’m gonna call Big Bill. Thanks. I guess. Bye.”


	12. Voicemail 12: Bev, October 2016

“MIKE! Mikey it’s Bev and a special guest, Eddie say hi!”

“Hiiiii Miiiiiiiike!”

“Hiiii! Happy Halloweeeeeeen! Eddie is here because we’re roommates Mike! We’re roomies! This is divorce support co-housing! This is the future liberals want!”

“This is also us on our second bottle of champagne.”

“Yes, also us on a second bottle of champagne, thank you Eddie. You’re so smart. I love you.”

“I love you too, Bev!”

“Yeah! Fucking love! Fuck, oh, oh, Eddie, do you remember when, on one Valentine’s Day, Mike gave us all these cute little stuffed sheep with little hearts on them?”

“Oh, fuck, yes! They were so squishy! ‘N soft!”

“Yeah! Didn’t you stuff those yourself, Mike? And sew them? God, you’re so nice, you do such nice things for us and take care of us, Mike I miss you!”

“I miss you way more, Mike, don’t fucking listen to her, I love you so fucking much man, you’re fucking tall and muscley and shit...”

“Eddie I’m not talking about fucking him, I’m talking about just loving him and appreciating him, although I mean he’s- Mike, you are a tall glass of water-”

“And I’m fucking PARCHED-”

“EDDIE SHUT UP I’M TALKING TO MIKE!”

“WELL GIVE ME THE PHONE SO I CAN!”

“NO WE’RE TALKING TOGETHER! Oh, fuck, remember when we screamed at each other in the clubhouse?”

“Which time?”

“The one with the yo-yos! I was, you all wanted me to teach you the tricks I knew, and Richie kept throwing his into everyone else’s, and it got tangled with Bill’s, and you kept getting it wrong and I tried to correct you and then you starting screaming at me to leave you alone so you could do it!”

“And you screamed at me to stop being a little bitch!”

“And then Ben and Bill both screamed at you to not scream at me!”

“Well you should’ve fucked off and let me work on the fucking tricks!”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t get so fucking pathetic when you can’t figure something out on the first try and just admit you needed help with it!”

“I didn’t fucking need help, I was getting it, you’re so full of shit, Marsh.”

“Fucking prove it, I’ve got yo-yos in a box somewhere, let’s fucking do it.”

“Do it! Get them! I’ll fucking yo the shit out of your yos!”

“HA! Fat chance! Oh, shit, Mike! We’re gonna go so I can teach this scrawny prick a lesson-”

“Bring it on, wench.”

“Oh-ho, ‘wench’, creative choices, mister risk analyst. Anyways, we love you Mike! Byeeee!”


	13. Voicemail 13: Stan, November 2016

“Hi Mike, it’s Stanley. I finally got in contact with the others, which was...a fiasco, to say the least. Since they didn’t know I was alive. Since you’re out of the country and haven’t been able to receive my calls or check your voicemails...which would also be why you haven’t called me back or picked up. So, thanks for that. Bill and I had to trade a few emails to convince him to do a video call with me, but it’s all sorted out now. I’ve invited everyone to get together with me and Patty for Thanksgiving. I can’t truly call it a reunion since you can’t be there, but we’ll be thinking of you. Taking pictures, maybe even, ha, maybe a voicemail with all of us together, I bet you’d enjoy listening to that mishegas.....I wish you were here, Mike. I miss you. I heard you’ll be gone for a year. Have fun out there, okay? Bye.”


	14. Voicemail 14: Patty, November 2016

_many voices_ “Hiiii Miiiiiike!”

“We miss you Mikey!”

“It’s not the same without you!”

“Guys come on, we were gonna wait to do this together-”

“W-Well tough shit, Eddie and Richie and taking f-forever and I w-want to fucking talk to Mike! Thank you by the way, Patty. Y-You’re a lovely host.”

“Yeah, unlike SOME people!”

“Bev, I can and will kick you out of my house.”

“And I can and will let you back in.”

“Thank you Patty, you are truly a woman of God. How you ended up with this stiff, I’ll never understand.”

“Oooooookay, Beverly is officially closed from the bar.”

“Nooooo, Ben I’m fine! Hit me again!”

“Ben, man, c’mon, don’t b-bogart the booze-”

“Okay I’m honestly starting to get a little anxious about-”

_a crash in the distance, followed by a momentary silence_

“If that was my petunias, I’m going to kill them.”

“You know where the shovels are, dear.”

“Damn, get you a woman who will help you hide the bodies.”

“And ruin my nails? Why, Ms. Marsh, I have no idea what you’re going on about. I’m simply letting my husband know where the tools a-”

“-and you both are replacing that pot and buying me new flowers, I don’t even care what kind-”

“How about some pansies, Stanny, I think those’d-”

“Oh my god, can you shut your mouth for five fucking second-”

“I dunno, I seem to be having some trouble doing that, think you could help?”

“Fat fucking chance.”

“Like every time I was around your mom.”

“Aagh!”

“Hey! Boys! No shoving in the house.”

“Oh I think they were already doing plenty of that.”

“Were you guys actually fighting? Guys, come on-”

“What was the fight over this time, c’mon, I want to start the betting pool.”

“Dominance.”

“Pfft ha! Eds gets off a good one! That was cute, babe, really, like you have a fighting chance-”

“Oh please, I-”

“I don’t know Richie, I think he had you right where he wanted you.”

“.....Stan-”

“Stanley, I swear to god-”

“Wait what does that mean? What does that MEAN, Stanley-”

“Mike, I think they’re going to have to go now, executive decision, we’ll maybe call again later.”

“Wait you guys called Mike-”

“BYEEEE MIKEY!”


	15. Voicemail 15: Ben, December 2016

“Hey Mike, it’s Ben. I’m...god, I feel ridiculous. I feel like a teenager. Shit, it’s cold. Have you been to the mountains before? It’s a different kind of cold than flatland Maine. It’s sharp, raw. Kind of pure, in a way. But fuckin’ windy, and hell in December. It’s nice though. I like it. You should come visit some time, when you get back. Bev is here right now, she’s working remotely because that’s something you can do when you run a fashion line? I don’t know, I didn’t exactly get that vibe for the fashion industry when I watched Devil Wears Prada, but hey, I’m not the professional fashion designer here. That’s her.

 _sigh_

She’s really great, Mike. She makes the place feel so much more...alive? Warmer. Even when it’s ten degrees outside, her just being in there makes everything more warm, more bearable. It took a little work but we just slotted into each other’s lives like it was no big deal, you know? I think, I think I want to ask her to move in. Full time. I know she and Eddie are doing their divorce support thing, but things have been going fairly smoothly for both of them, so maybe it’d be okay? I don’t wanna take away their support system though, they both really need each other right now and they look after each other, it’s really funny sometimes. But I still wanna ask, you know? And since Eddie has Richie and whatever thing they’ve got going on right now, maybe it’d be okay to ask now? I might be making a bigger deal out of this than it really is. I should just ask her. Thanks for listening, Mike. Bye.”


	16. Voicemail 16: Eddie, December 2016

“Okay, this is going to sound stupid, but I’m scared to be alone right now and I just need someone to listen and since you can’t talk back right now it’s going to be you, okay? Fuck, okay, sorry Mike, it’s Eddie, if you couldn’t already fucking guess that, fuck you probably have caller ID or something, you know who these fucking voicemails are from. Anyways. Look. I’m. Kind of freaking out right now. And it’s fucking stupid, because it’s not a big deal! It’s not even a big deal! Bev and Ben wanna move in together! That’s great! That’s what people in a healthy relationship with each other do! She shouldn’t have to split her time between two places when it’s one place she really actually wants to be, and I don’t hold that against her, I wouldn’t want to fucking live with me, I just have no choice in the matter. And I told her it’d be fine and it’s fine and I’m fine but I’m not actually fine, Mike, I’m fucking scared to be alone, I’m- I don’t want to be alone. I’m scared something is gonna be there and I’m not actually going to be alone when I think I am and it’s...Bev said I should ask Richie to move in, and like, as much as I would like that, how weird would that be? To ask your childhood best friend that you’re now tentatively dating to move in with you like two weeks after you got together? Isn’t that a little much? He’s gonna think I’m insane and clingy and I can’t, I can’t fucking do that, but at the same time....it would be nice. To have him around. But he lives in fucking LA and Chicago, the asshole has two places, can you believe that? Rich privileged prick. He’s like, a C-list comedian at best, how the fuck can he get away with owning two apartments? And then to ask him to add a third city to that? Forget it. Not happening. Not feasible. End of story. Cased closed. I- oh fuck, he’s calling through, shit, I gotta go. Bye!”


	17. Voicemail 17: Bill, December 2016

“Hey Mikey, Bill here. S-Surprise of all surprises, I’m b-back in Maine. Not Derry sp-specifically, but Maine. I wanted to come back here to get in the minds-set of the set-setting- fuck, why does this only come-come back in fucking Maine? -the setting of the book I’m working on. I got the okay from the others t-to use some of our experiences in it. I was thinking of a story of a group of kids who st-start to realize that there’s something following them, haunting their t-town and the adults ca-can see it but refuse to d-do anything. And it’s s-said to be a ghost or a sp-spirit and the kids do research into the native peoples whose land the town is on- th-that’s on you buddy, for using that Native American ritual, I want to know w-where that actually came from and like, incorporate their culture and talk about how w-white people turn it into boogeymen and stuff, like, like a social commentary? Wait, would you want to help me on this? I know you really like that st-stuff, researching and history. I’d really like to work with you, that’d be really cool. Anyways, I thi-think the twist is that it wasn’t a supernatural creature at all, but an alien, and nothing the tribe told the kids wo-works and they have to track the thing down and just f-fucking kill it and destroy its s-spaceship that’s been keeping everyone complacent while it eats kids or something. Does that sound good? Is that a d-decent enough twist? Aliens? I wish you were here, man, you’d be able to m-make some sense out of this sh-sh-sh- bullshit, fucking bullshit. Shit. I...god, you’ve been gone for a while, man. I didn’t realize before how long you’d be gone. I really miss you, dude. I hope you’re doing well. I love you, man. Bye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! i just realized this is the halfway mark of the fic! wow! I wanted to let you all know that i do read your comments and they make me feel amazing and help spur me on to keep writing this monster, i love everyone who's keeping up with the fic so much <3


	18. Voicemail 18: Stan, December 2016

“OOOOOOH HANNUKAH OH HANNUKAH, COME LIIIIIGHT THE MENORAH! LET’S HAVE A PARTY, WE’LL ALL DANCE THE HORAH! GATHER ROUND THE TABLE, WE’LL GIVE YOU A TREAT! SIVIVON TO PLAY WITH AND LATKES TO EAT! AND WHILE WEEEEEE ARE PLAYIIIIING THE CANDLES ARE BURNING BRIIIIIIIGHT! ONE FOR EACH NIGHT TO SHED A SWEET LIGHT TO REMIND US OF DAYS LONG AGOOOOO! ONE FOR EACH NIGHT! TO SHED A SWEET LIGHT! TO REMIND US OF Days long agoooooo!"

"Woo, good going boys!"

“Mikey! Happy Hannukah from the only other Loser’s club members that aren’t WASPs! I hope you’re getting mad pussy and/or dick right now in honor of our brave ancestors-”

“Beep beep, Richie, can’t we have a holiday in peace?”

“Not a fucking chance. I brought a menorah-shaped bong.”

“You’re a disgrace to the Jewish people.”

“No he’s not, he’s a mensch and a scholar. Give that shit here.”

“Aaaaaand looks like Hannukah Harry got us 8 whole joints for each night! What say we plug these babies into each bowl and let ‘er rip in honor of the brave Maccabees?”

“Yeah! Stanley?”

“....You’re not a total disgrace to the Jewish people.”

“Fuck yeah! From the kid that said ‘fuck’ at his bar mitzvah, that’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear. Just a little goddamn validation.”

“Shut up and give me the hannukush.”

“Pffft-”

“Haha! Stan the man gets off a good one! I’m gonna steal that now, ‘hannukush’, shit- Oh hey, Mike! Well wishes, yadda yadda, can’t wait to get stoned as fuck with you when you get back! The Loser’s Club will hotbox once more!”

“Oh I need all these stories.”

“Bye, Mike. Chag Sameach.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey im back and im looking for a beta reader for the rest of these hmu if u wanna


	19. Voicemail 19: Bill, 2016

“Hi Mike, it’s Bill. I’m....not ent-tirely sure why I called you? I just, I’ve been hit with this b-bitch of a writer’s block. It’s sn-snowing like crazy and I keep getting distrac-tracted by the snowfall and the flakes. The place I rented, th-the field in front of it, it’s fucking pristine. Do you remember winter break right a-after the- right at the end of ‘89? It snowed hard and my parents, they...really retreated. It was the f-first Christmas without him. I was ready to just lock up in my room and work on drawing for the whole month, and then s-snowballs started to hit my window because you chucklefucks wanted to go sledding. My tweenage brooding, so rudely interrupted. I remember we grabbed Silver, and I told you to h-hop on the back and w-we rode her down the hills. Fuck, it was freezing. You were always warm though, you seem to r-run warm, right? Honestly, I think I spent almost th-that entire winter at other p-people’s houses, and- shit, the farm! The farm was always gorgeous and warm. Your mom made cookies and the house always smelled like it. It was like s-something out of a f-fairytale. We should do that again sometime. Do you have your m-mom’s cookie recipe? Let me know. I think I found that spark again. I miss you, man. Happy holidays.”


	20. Voicemail 20: Richie, December 2016/January 2017

“-way you piece of shit.”

“Hi Michael! Hello wherever you are in the world! Where in the world is Mikey Handiego? Ooh, too close to a handjob joke there. Anyways! Eddie, my love, would you care to tell our dear sweet departed fr-”

“He’s not dead, Richie, jesus-”

“Tell him what you asked me in front of god and all our friends, you fiend! We’re not leaving him out of this momentous occasion!”

“Momentous- okay shithead, if you’re gonna be this obnoxious about it I will kindly rescind my invitation.”

“Your invitation to what?”

“ _sigh_...To move in with me, Richie.”

“You hear that, Mikey? And I said ‘yes’!”

“Hey, FUCK Say Yes To The Dress, they never pull my fucking dresses-”

“Babe, have you even put out a wedding line recently? Or at all?”

“W- yes, Benjamin, I have....thought about it extensively in my head.”

“Excuse me! Heteros! Not about you right now! This new year is going to be brought to you by the power of gay love, motherfuckers! Eduardo y Ricardo, taking on the Big Apple!”

_someone snorts in the background_

“What?”

“‘The Big Apple’ sounds like a buttplug.”

“Patty!”

“Ha!”

“Oh come the fuck on!”

“Yeah that’s what you do with buttplugs, Spaghetti, you cum on them-”

“I’m gonna let you move in just so I can change the locks on you, I swear to god.”

“Patricia! Send me the links to wherever you found this ‘Big Apple,’ posthaste!”

“Of course, brave sir Richard.”

“Stop feeding his ego, love, please.”

“Guys, ball-drop in less than two minutes!”

“Aw Big Bill, your balls only just now dropping?”

“Fuck off, Richie.”

“Partner up for some New Year’s kisses, Losers!”

“Patty, would you do me the honors-”

“Richard, I am not afraid to enter this new year covered in blood.”

“-of kissing my best guy Stan here, I heard he’s had a crush on ya for weeks now. Years even.”

“Oh has he? Well, I was planning on doling out to Ms. Marsh this year, but I think I could make an exception.”

“Why is it always Beverly you hypothetically cheat on me with?”

“COUNTDOWN!”

“10  
9  
8  
7  
6  
5  
4  
3  
2  
1!”

_a moment’s silence, followed by a loud wolf whistle_

“Great show, guys.”

“Fuck off Bill, you’re just upset you didn’t have anyone to kiss!”

“Maybe he’s saving it.”

“You can’t ‘save’ your new year’s kiss, that’s not how this works! That’s not how any of this works!”

“Maybe it is! You don’t know his story!”

“I know it’s got a shit ending!”

“OOOOOH!”

“Hey, f-fuck you guys.”

“Whoa, wa-”

“Aw, Bill! Come back! It was all fun and games!”

“Well Mikey, looks like someone’s gotta do Big Bill patrol, I’m gonna hand you to Eddie.”

“This thing is still going? Jesus. Well, we love you Mike, and we hope you’re having a good new year wherever the fuck you are. Take care. Bye.”


	21. Voicemail 21: Bev, January 2017

“Hi, Mike. I... am sitting on the back porch of Ben’s place in Nevada. We flew in last night. It overlooks the Sierras, it’s beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever breathed air this clear. And it’s cold. It’s so cold. Coffee is good though. I just wanted to call and say....I hope you’re experiencing this, too. This warm and cold feeling, everything at once. I hope you’re looking at the world and loving it, because I know the world is looking right back at you and loving you too. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I hope it gives you some peace. God knows you’ve earned it. What is it, six? Seven months to go now? We'll be here waiting for you. We love you, Mike. See you soon.”


	22. Voicemail 22: Bill, February 2017

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> time for the next chapter dump! woohoo! thanks coronavirus!

“Hey Mike, it’s Bill. Uh, happy Valentine’s day? Sorry, I- this is stupid. Everyone else is getting on with their lives and doing sh-shit with their, their ‘other halfs’ today, and B-Bev called to check in on me. Then Richie called. Then Stan sent me a text, and I’m f-fucking pissed off that they p-p-pity me so fucking much. Yeah, I’m alone today. Big f-f-fucking deal. Ah, fuck, you weren’t here for it, Audra and I agreed to split last month. We kinda realized we weren’t what the other needed. Still friends and all that shit, but. Yeah. Um. So I’m alone right now, I guess. I guess I just m-miss you, Mike. Pretty much counting down the days til you get back, ha. Kind of pathetic, but whatever, man. We picked up where we left off so well and I miss that, I think I’ve missed that for a while and I just...didn’t know it. I hope you’re having a good day today. I lo- I, I miss you. Can’t wait to see you. Um. Bye.”


	23. Voicemail 23: Ben, March 2017

“DRUNK NEW YORK VOICEMAIL TAKE THREE! ACTION!”

“Thank you Ms. Marsh. Today, on this the 17th of March, I, Richard Wentworth Tozier the Third-”

“Fuck you, you’re not a third-”

“I am a third, I’ll have you know.”

“Bullshit, I would’ve known if you were a third.”

“Well hotshot guess you don’t know everything about lil' ole me. I’ve still got a couple cards up my sleeves, gotta keep an air of mystery-”

“Mystery? Mystery?! The only thing mysterious about you is how you still have a fucking job as a comedian, and also where you got that stain on your shirt. It wasn’t there an hour ago, I swear to fuck it wasn’t.”

“Uh, guys? Voicemail is still running.”

“Shit! Fuck off Eds, you’re making me ruin my big performance thing for Mike!”

“I’m not doing shit! You’re just a shitty performer!”

“I dunno, I think I’ve been performing pretty well in b-”

“BEEP BEEP!”

“Thank you Bev.”

“God bless, boys.”

“Richie you are disgusting, keep that shit private please for the love-”

“Oh, so you want *me* to keep quiet? That’s pretty hypocritical coming from you, Spaghetti.”

“Guys....”

“RICHIE I’M GONNA KILL YOU!”

“Oop!”

_sounds of a scuffle can be heard_

“Benny, babe, bring the phone here.”

“Okay.”

“Mike. Michael. We love you. Happy Saint Patrick’s day. I hope you’re in Ireland. You better be in fucking Ireland for this. We love and miss you. Okay bye.”

“Haha, bye Mike. Sorry for all this. You gotta love them though, right? Okay, bye.”


	24. Voicemail 24: Eddie, April 2017

“Hello, Mike? This is Eddie. I’m calling to inform you that I am about to kill your dear friend Richie Tozier on counts of causing me extreme emotional stress and psychological scarring by dressing up as my FUCKING mother before I woke up today and getting back into bed. For me to wake up next to. I’m going to stab him with a kitchen knife, I am in the kitche- RICHIE NO I’M HOLDING A KNIFE!”

_sounds of a scuffle_

“Aha!”

“Fuck you, get off of me, lardass!”

“But Eddie-bear, I just want to smother you with my love!”

“Aggh, that’s so fucking creepy, I hate this so fucking much. I’m kicking you out. I’m changing the locks. I’m throwing all your shit out the goddamn window.”

*Richie cackles, then oofs and groans*

“Oooh, that’s no fair, that’s cheating, what the fuck, Eds?”

“You wouldn’t get off of me and you’re dressed like my fucking mom, I think I’m justified!”

“Punching someone in the dick is never justified, you little prick! Agh, fuck!”

“Where’s my- ah! Mike, these will be the last ever recorded sounds of Richard Wentworth Tozier, I hope you treasure them and don’t share them with the police. Goodbye.”

“Mikey, help me-”


	25. Voicemail 25: Ben, April 2017

“Mike this is Ben I think I fucked up really badly I was in the mall and Bev went into a clothes store that I really don’t get so I was walking around and I came across this jeweler place and I started looking at the rings and then I was asking the guy at the counter to see the rings and then I bought a ring and I don’t even know her ring size I don’t know what to do we got home okay and it was hidden in my jacket and she didn’t see or feel it but oh my god what if she does? She’s so smart, she notices things, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to keep this up, fuck I, I gotta get this out of the house. She can’t find it if it’s not here. I’m gonna store it with someone else. Fucking, let me- I’m gonna call Stan. I’m- bye.”


	26. Voicemail 26: Bill, April 2017

“Hey Mike. I’m, I was walking through D-Derry, since the snow’s all melting now, I w-wanted to see the quarry, to try to help v-v-visualize scenes for the book. To remember things, more things. But I, I, I d-didn’t realize, I- f-f-fuck, man, I forgot my own brother. I, I remembered I _had_ a brother but I didn’t think anything of it, not until you called us back home. I had a brother. H-His name was George Christopher Denbrough. He was b-born in December, my mom used to call him our Ch-, our Chr-, fucking shit! Christmas present! Fuck! He liked the color yellow a-and he had a stuffed monkey he slept with and he, he always wanted to join me and Stan and Richie and Eddie when we went to play at the quarry but he w-was t-too small. We couldn’t t-t-take him. Mom s-said he had to wait til he was older, and b-b-bigger. Well he, he didn’t g-get that, did he? Fuck, I hate this. I almost d-don’t want to remember, because it f-fucking _hurts_ to remember, but I can’t just not remember, right? I have to remember. I’m the only one who can. I’m his brother. I have to, for him, no matter h-how much it hurts, he des-serves to be remembered. I have to do that for him. It’s the least I can fucking do. F-Fuck, I wish you would come home already. I hate b-being so fucking alone. I miss you. I hate all this fucking waiting. Come home safe, okay? You have to. Literally none of us could handle it if you didn’t. So come home. Alright?

.....Bye.”


	27. Voicemail 27: Stan, May 2017

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit i'm back and im gonna finish this monster and you're all gonna love it so much

“Hi Mike, it’s Stan. I just got out of a therapy session where I had to call all the others and talk to them about my...suicide attempt, and the letters that I’d left behind for you all that didn’t get sent for obvious reasons. It’s supposed to help me get closure for this whole part of my life, by telling you all about it. So I guess what I want to say is....

  
I’m not infallible. Neither are you. We all make mistakes and bad judgement calls. I feel like I’ve been over this with you, but I’ll say it again: I didn’t try to kill myself because of your phone call. I think it was something that was building up in me...for a while. It wasn’t something we talked about though, you know, growing up in the 80’s, mental illness just wasn’t a thing. You were either normal or a freak, and I don’t want anyone to think I was more of a freak than I already was so I never said anything but I was really...really depressed as a kid. I used to wonder if the next jump I did off the cliff at the quarry would be the one to do me in, and a sick part of me even hoped for it. Patty’s with me right now, holding my hand while I’m saying all of this. She knows everything now. She’s really great, Mike. Better than me by a longshot.

  
I want to say that the reason I kept going as a kid was because of you guys. You and Bill and Richie, Eddie, Ben, Bev. I....My love for you all was stronger than my urge to just, just sleep and never wake up. You made me want to wake up. And waking up is scary- especially after a 27 year sleep. And I think that’s why I did it, because I was so scared of feeling like, like I could live again, as Stanny instead of Stanley. But I’m gonna get better, Mike. For you and them, and for me. Because it’s really nice to be living again. I thought loving Patty was the most alive I’d ever feel, but adding in all the love for you guys....I feel like a livewire. I love you, Mike. We’ll see you soon. Bye.”


	28. Voicemail 28: Richie, May 2017

“Hey Mikey, so I’m having a bit of a discussion here with my boyfriend-”

“Oh you did not call Mike, you piece of shit-”

“-And I was wondering if you would help settle an argument for us.”

“It’s his voicemail! He won’t even actually be able to settle anything! This is just a big pointless bit!”

“You see, my darling and I were thinking of getting a pet to liven up the apartment, and I suggested a lovely, lowkey little kitty cat-”

_sounds of scuffling_

“And _I_ said we should get a dog, because you can take it for walks and it shits outside and if you get a short hair one then it doesn’t shed so often, and it’s easier to train-”

“Oh bullshit, the training depends entirely on the quality of the trainer-”

“And you’re saying I wouldn’t be a good trainer?!”

“I’m saying you’d give the dog rabies, you feral dick!”

“Listen, asswipe, I would train whatever dog we got so well, you don’t even have a fucking clue. That dog would roll over and sit and stay and shake hands like the most proper lady or gentleman, I swear to god it would be so fucking cool-”

“You can train cats like that too! People put cats on leashes and take them for walks all the time!”

“That’s- those people are sociopaths, Richie!”

“Which is exactly why it’s a perfect fit for you!”

“Fuck you, dude, we’re getting a dog!”

“Cats don’t drool everywhere!”

“Neither do most breeds of medium sized dogs!”

“Cats are nicer, they’re chill!”

“Do you hear yourself? Are you hearing the words you’re saying right now? Cats are notorious for knocking shit over and scratching everything!”

“Yeah, when they’re _bored_! Our cat wouldn’t be bored, we would give him or her a very nice array of toys to use for enrichment and they wouldn’t destroy any of our shit, for the most part.”

“‘For the most part’?”

“Come on, like dogs aren’t stereotyped for chewing up shoes and humping the furniture.”

“So no different from you, then.”

“When have I ever chewed a fucking shoe.”

“I’ll make you do it right fucking now.”

“Like you could reach.”

“Watch me, dickhead.”

_click_


	29. Voicemail 29: Ben, May 2017

“Hey Mike, it’s Ben! It just kind of- well, I just got out of a meeting about some award ceremony for a building design, it’s not important, but people were mentioning how impressive it was that I got into the schools I did and then was picked up for my first job so young, and it took everything in me to not say, ‘Oh, thanks, you see there was a demon clown with a vested interest in not having me return to my old town, so, you know, magically great opportunities.’ But then it hit me that, well those magic opportunities to keep us away from Derry were there for me and Bev and Richie and everyone, but were they there for you too? And it’s just buzzing around my head now, what did It try to get you to leave? And if It did try anything, how did you manage to say no, or stand your ground? You stayed behind in a town that never showed you any kindnesses, and you watched us leave. When did you figure out we weren’t gonna be sending any letters home? Was it after Bev left? Bill? Me? I try to imagine what you must’ve been feeling and it’s unbearable, Mike. I couldn’t ask that feeling on anybody in the world, and you did it. You’re extremely brave, okay? You are so strong and the kindest man I’ve ever met. I don’t think I or the others can ever thank you enough or repay the sacrifice you made, but I know I’m going to be spending the rest of my life trying to make sure you never feel torn or alone like that again, okay? I really love you, Mike. We all do. There’s going to be a huge celebration when you get home, so be ready for it! I hope you’re having fun wherever you are today. Okay, bye.”


	30. Voicemail 30: Bev, June 2017

“Mike! Mike it’s Bev, I just, I just punched someone. I just punched a man backstage at a show. I just, he, there was yelling and we were trying to get the finishing touches done and I wasn’t done and he grabbed my arm and said ‘You’re done’ and I punched him! Out of, out of just, it was a reflex! It was a pure reflex! And his nose was bleeding, I think I broke his nose, oh my _god_! I’m fine, I mean, I’m more than fine, I was escorted to the Green Room so I wouldn’t punch any more aides but I can’t stop _smiling_ either because it, god, Mike, it felt so good. Ha! It felt so fucking good to just, just fucking punch him! It felt, I felt strong and wild and determined to say no, actually, I’m not fucking finished here, and you’re going to let me take whatever time I goddamn well need. Isn’t that ridiculous? That aide wasn’t doing anything but his job, it wasn’t personal, but I just _lo_ _st_ it, I...oh god, oh no. Fuck. That poor man. I need to, I need to send him an apology and a gift or something. Shit. 

.....

It felt good, though. It made me think of the quarry, when we met. You were in trouble, and I didn’t think, I just threw. I was so _angry_ at how you were being treated, about Bowers being the one to do it, and I fought for the first time in my life. Not with words, but with my actual goddamn hands, and I felt so powerful, and it’s because of you Mike. I fought for you and then fought with you, and I never felt like I was unladylike or a freak for it. We fight and we keep fighting because that’s what Losers do. I’m so glad I get to fight with you, Mike. I’m so glad.”


	31. Voicemail 31: Eddie, June 2017

“Hi Mike it’s Eddie, I should really stop doing this but I am once again sitting in my bathroom at 2 am having a panic attack because I am in love with Richie. I mean the other times weren’t exactly because I was in love with Richie, but also they were as I’m starting to notice the different effects of repression on my life. But that’s not the point, I think, or, I’m not exactly sure what I was just saying actually? No, fuck, I’m on my bathroom floor and- _our_ bathroom floor, jesus -because I woke up and was thirsty and I looked over at Richie sound asleep next to me and I thought, ‘I could wake up to this for the rest of my life.’ That’s marriage, Mike! That’s marriage! The thing I just got out of! And the worst part about it is, part of me feels weirdly okay with that, like I should just jump right back into it and ask Richie to marry me, which is obviously insane! I’m a crazy person, this is what pushes me into certifiable, medical insanity. Why the fuck do I want to marry someone when I just got divorced? Marriage was awful, it was tethering, it was suffocating, but also I’m a gay man who was married to a woman so that’s entirely understandable, right? But then I look at Richie and he’s passed out in our bed or making dinner or reading some random Wikipedia page and I’ll get that whole-body feeling of wanting to stay like this with him forever, to just watch him and be with him and maybe making it official wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world, right? But he’s also infuriating and kind and he goes with the flow and I’m so goddamn stubborn, I can’t...

I don’t think I can let myself have this. Yet. Not yet. I, there’s so much that needs to be done and said and worked on, and I want this so badly, I think, but I can’t. Love is...love is a scary fucking thing to be learning about at 41 years old, Mike. To be relearning. I’m gonna go to bed. I’ll see you soon.”


End file.
